


Undercover Gone Smut

by Moreena



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Aphrodisiacs, Bad Science, Dry Orgasm, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Post-Endless Waltz, Sex Tapes, Slut Quatre, Smut, Topping from the Bottom, Unrealistic Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 16:19:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10540092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/pseuds/Moreena
Summary: Quatre was undercover.  And, his cover is blown.  He's injected with a drug, and needs to work it through his system.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 4x3 day! Quatre topping from the bottom! I headcanon Quatre as a sluttly little minx, so have him in all his depraved glory!!!

His comm crackled to life. He heard Quatre’s voice directly in his ear, and he smiled. But that smile vanished quickly, when he actually noted the tone of his voice. It was breathless, shaky. Something was wrong with him.

“03, come in,” He gasped out.

“03 here. Go 04,” he demanded, holding the mike closer to his face.

His eyes were scanning the wall of cameras in front of him, looking for the smaller blonde male. They’d hooked into the hotel’s security feeds, so he didn’t always have a direct line of sight. That was the one fatal flaw with this. The other was sending Quatre in as a civilian. Connections or no, he hadn’t wanted his lover involved. But, there was no one else they could use. And, as usual, Winner’s name and reputation preceded him. So, they’d suited him up with a mike and a hidden camera and sent him in. 

It was supposed to be simple. Blend in, get the intel and get out. The intel just happened to be drugs, so they knew which target to go after. But, with the Gundam pilots, nothing was that simple.

“Made contact. Secured the package. Got injected with something. Heading for the nest now,” he rattled off, his voice sunken into soldier mode, to get things done.

Trowa flipped channels and radioed to the other teams, telling them to go. And, he’d get medical on the horn as soon as Quatre was safely inside the room. His eyes roamed the monitors again, and he found him. He was staggering slightly, but still on his feet. Anyone else would assume the blonde was just drunk. But, that wasn’t what worried him. It was the large guy following him. He looked like typical hired muscle. All brawn, no brains, and only built to follow orders. Quatre boarded an elevator full of people, and beefcake squeezed inside as well.

He changed the cameras, looking for the elevators. By the time he found them, the elevator was mostly empty. A young couple, Quatre, and the beefcake. They all got off on the same floor, the couple chatting with Quatre as they walked, the young woman unsteady in her spiked heels. Trowa made a bee-line for the door, and as they heard him approach, he opened the door silently. Quatre dove for the door and Trowa slammed it shut, throwing the locks into place. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but that was for the other teams to figure out. Not his problem.

“What happened Quat?” He asked, looking him over, fingers patting him over, looking for any other visible injuries on his lover.

“Drug... Mix. GHB and something else,” he managed to say, shedding the black suit jacket and dropping it to the floor.

His skin was pink, flushed with arousal, and hot to the touch. He was on fire, and needed cool air on his skin. Anyone else wouldn’t have made it from the casino up to a room. They’d have been passed out in the elevator, and then kidnapped. Thank the doctors for all the kinds of concoctions they pumped each of the boys full of, that had made it possible for him to fight it all the way up there.

He'd grown taller, but not as much as Trowa had. Trowa towered over him by almost a foot, and out muscled him too. Right now, Quatre was drooling, his eyes all pupil, blown to hell from the drugs. Flipping his hair out of his face, he panted.

“Tell med I’m fine. I just need to work this through my system. Tell them to stand down then strip.” 

Trowa cocked an eyebrow at his little lover, looking down at him like he was just a step shy of the loony bin.

“Do it Trowa! You’re going to fuck me until this is out of my system,” he growled, fingers tugging harshly at the buttons on his shirt, yanking it out of his pants and tossing it to the floor as well.

The glare that Trowa felt as he walked to the radio made him shiver. Quatre didn’t often get like this. All feral and demanding. He was usually content to let Trowa drive things. But, not tonight. So, he radioed in that medical could sit tight. Quatre was safe, and the rest of the team could wrap things up. And, to avoid the room. For the foreseeable future. When he turned around, Quatre was naked, and he’d pulled the comm from his ear and tossed it at the table. His cock was hard and throbbing, pre-cum beaded at the tip.

“Get the lube from the bag and get up here,” he growled again.

Trowa went to work with gusto, pulling his shirt off over his head, and fingers making quick work of his jeans. He was commando underneath, and Quatre let out an appreciative moan. Naked as a jaybird, he made his way to his duffle bag and grabbed the lube from one of the inner pockets. Turning back to the bed, he swore under his breath.

Quatre had rolled over to his hands and knees, his pert ass was raised in the air, and his legs were spread as wide as he could make them go. One hand fisted his cock in a slow motion. 

“Need the lube,” he vocalized.

Trowa responded quickly, climbing onto the bed, lube in hand. He dribbled a little onto Quatre’s hand, and Quatre let out a satisfied moan as he fisted his cock again, the motion smooth and perfect with the silicone.

“Spread me open and fuck me,” He demanded, looking over his shoulder at Trowa.

Trowa’s green eyes danced, and he smeared lube onto his fingers and immediately pressed two against Quatre’s proffered hole. He’d have gone slower, a single digit at a time, but Quatre was so impatient, that he knew the blonde wouldn’t wait. And, Quatre howled, his ass clenching down on those fingers like he never wanted them to leave.

“Yes!” He hissed out, bowing his head down.

Trowa prepped him as fast as he dared, spreading him open with two fingers, then took the time to add in a third. The blonde was sobbing under him, demanding his cock. Demanding that Trowa fuck him now. Taking hold of his hips, he used the extra lube on his hand to coat his cock. He pressed inside in a long, slow push. He stopped when he was as deep as he could go. 

Quatre let out a sharp howl of approval, his body shuddering as his first orgasm washed over him in a surprise torrent. He stroked himself through it, thick fluid dribbling onto the comforter underneath them. It took Trowa by surprise, and he had to bite his cheek to stop himself from orgasming. Quatre would kill him if he let off that soon.

“Fuck me. Fuck me Trowa or so help me, I’ll throw you out,” he barked, using one arm to push himself back onto his lover’s cock, fucking himself shallowly on the organ.

“Yes, yes, I’ve got you,” Trowa said, taking hold of his hips tighter, pulling back to slam back in as hard as he dared.

Quatre was still hot and flushed, his skin still felt like lava, and Trowa knew he had a way to go, if he was going to help him. So, he fucked Quatre with sharp, short strokes. He fucked into him as hard as he dared, wringing cry after scream from his lover. It didn’t take long, with the drugs coursing through his system. He came again with another strangled scream, the pillow muffling most of it. His body shuddered, clamped down on Trowa’s cock.

It was too much. It was too quick, from soft to fully aroused, to buried inside that heavenly heat that he loved. He shoved deep and came, spilling every drop inside Quatre’s hole, grunting out his orgasm. Panting, he knelt there, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. He pushed it back with a hand, breathing hard as he looked down at his lover.

“More… I need more Trowa,” Quatre slurred.

He tamped down on his panic. He wasn’t ready to go again so quick. He didn’t have the advantage of drugs to get himself hard again so soon after orgasm. Carefully, he withdrew from Quatre’s body, frowning down at him.

“I can’t baby. I need time,” he admitted bashfully. He’d never had such an issue before.

Quatre sobbed and rolled over onto his back, feet resting on the bed, turgid cock resting against his stomach. His blonde locks were plastered to his forehead, and his chin was shiny with drool. He looked so utterly debauched and well-fucked, that Trowa wished he had his phone handy to take a picture. Then again… The room had surveillance, because they had a lot of equipment in the room. He’d copy the footage to a drive later and keep it. Yeah, he’d always wanted to film a porno with Quatre. But, Quatre had always been too shy, too unwilling. Now, he had his chance.

“Give me your fingers. Fuck me with your fingers,” he sobbed, canting his hips upward.

Nodding at his demands, he slipped three fingers into Quatre’s hole, moaning when he felt that extra wetness from his own release still coating his insides. Thrusting his fingers in deep, he fucked Quatre hard, making sure he curled them just right to stroke at his prostate relentlessly, wringing more screams and pleas from the over-worked throat. Looking up at him, Trowa moaned softly. He’d never seen a more erotic sight.

Again, it didn’t take long. He was so high and sensitive, that he came again, his body arching taut like a bowstring. He came, but it was a dry orgasm, rocking his body even harder with the force of it. He sobbed, sinking back to the bed, trying to catch his breath. His throat was raw and scratchy, but still. Still, the heat persisted, and his cock remained hard.

“Again… Oh, Allah fuck me again! Do it Trowa. I need more,” he cried out brokenly, eyes fixed on the ceiling, though he wasn’t tracking any details.

Grabbing the lube, Trowa drizzled more onto his fingers, a wicked grin filling his features. They’d discussed this before, but they’d never really managed to try it. He smoothed the lube onto his hand and carefully pressed his pinky finger against Quatre’s hole, watching it ever so slowly part and suck the next finger inside. He watched, his cock filling again slowly. Had it already been so long? He couldn’t keep track of time, even by Quatre’s orgasms.

“Yes,” he hissed again, his hand slowing on his cock. He wanted to feel it, to focus on it.

Dimly he knew what Trowa was trying to do, what he was going to do. Fuck, he wanted it. Wanted to feel his body split open and accept the intrusion, like he did whenever Trowa impaled him on his cock. This was another extension of Trowa, and that was alright with him

“Be still,” Trowa admonished gently.

Quatre nodded as best he could, feeling the fingers twist inside him, Trowa’s hand rotating, trying to spread him open more without hurting him. He groaned out as he felt the hand at his ass shifting. Trowa tucked his thumb alongside his other fingers, adding a bit more lube, making Quatre a sloppy mess. Then he was pressing back in, then pulling out. Short gentle thrusts that rocked his entire body. Reaching up, he wrapped a hand around the headboard to stop himself from riding up the bed further.

“Don’t stop. Fucking hell Trowa… Don’t you dare fucking stop,” he snarled.

“Yes baby. Wouldn’t think of stopping,” he purred.

Pushing with a bit more pressure, he watched as his hand slowly began to disappear inside of Quatre’s body. The enveloping heat was so intense. He wished it was his cock. Carefully, he curled his fingers inside Quatre’s body, making a fist inside of him. Quatre was howling, feeling the mass inside of him, splitting him in half almost. Trowa gave small abortive thrusts, his knuckles pressed continuously against his prostate. Trowa’s other hand came up, stroking his lover’s cock.  
It sent him over the edge again. That too-full feeling, that burning pressure that straddled the line of pain and pleasure. He screamed out, hand fisting into the bedding as his body jerked and spasmed with another dry orgasm.

His fluttering hole, his clenching muscles. Trowa was fascinated by all of it, the way Quatre’s body felt around the widest part of Trowa. When the orgasm subsided, he slowly began to pull back, inching his fist out in tiny increments. He wasn’t going to hurt him. It took time, but his hand finally slipped away, leaving Quatre’s hole looking too well fucked. They were both hard, though Quatre looked like he was finally winding down.

“O-one more,” Quatre bleated softly, reaching his arms up, making grabby hands at his lover, wanting him close.

“One more,” he agreed, hooking one of Quatre’s legs over his arm, spreading Quatre open again.

They didn’t need lube, and he knew it would be over quickly. Trowa’s cock pressed in again, not even having to fight to get inside. He slipped inside with ease, and they both cried out, Quatre’s inner body warm and loose, Trowa as hard as nails. And, it didn’t last long. Quatre’s hand slid down between their bodies, jerking himself with quick pulls. It was over before either of them could even really think about it. Trowa fucked him hard, grunting into Quatre’s ear. They came together in a blur of flesh and a flurry of cries. They laid there, panting, sweat and come cooling between them. 

His body was so sensitive, that he whimpered when he felt Trowa fill him one more time. It was so good. He felt so fucked over and blissful, he didn’t know how to act, or what to do.

“Off, please. Skin’s too hot,” he slurred.

With a nod, Trowa carefully withdrew and knelt on the side of his lover, looking down at him. He was a hot mess, and he looked like he was about to pass out where he was laying.

“Clean me up, he asked prettily, flashing Trowa a blissed-out grin.

“Anything for you.”

Trowa slipped into the bathroom and grabbed a cloth, wetting it with hot water, and grabbed a towel too. A sponge clean would have to do for now. He’d wrestle him into the shower when Quatre was a little more coherent. He went back and wiped him down, gentle with his over sensitive cock and ass.

“M’sleepy,” he said, eyes already closed as he drifted off on the blanket. 

Trowa shook his head and finished cleaning up, tucking the blonde under the blankets. He pulled his own clothes back on and flipped on the comm, telling medics to come up and check him over, but he was good. The drugs had run their course, and his skin had finally returned to its usual pale.

“Damned minx… But, it was well worth it,” he purred, fingers clicking on the computer as he copied the files he needed to a thumb drive and pocketing it. “Just hope housekeeping can get the smell of sex out of this room,” he joked aloud to himself, looking over at the mop of blonde hair that poked out from the blankets.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://moonsandrock.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [My Gundam Tumblr](http://weiclown.tumblr.com/)


End file.
